For The Empire
by SinisterGB
Summary: A Torchwood, Doctor Who and Stargate crossover. A fic which explores the events of the two shows as seen by the eyes of the rival organisations.
1. Prologue

**For The Empire - Prologue**

**1928**

Within the shadows of a small room in the heart of London, a man sat, patiently with his hands clasped. The room was surrounded by thick concrete walls, encased within a shell of armour. Above the room, London slept. Within the room, eleven men were already seated in dark leather chairs at a beautifully carved table made from the finest oak wood. In front of each man, there was a single white, unmarked folder. There was one chair left empty.

The door opposite the man who sat at the end of the table opened and a slim figure stepped in and shut the door behind him. Without much thought, he found the empty seat and sat down.

"My apologies" he said "The meeting with the representative from Berlin ran longer than I expected"

The man that appeared to be in charge of the group nodded, a sign of understanding. He knew full well that politicians usually lacked an understanding of how unimportant they really were.

To describe the group sitting around the table would be near impossible. Their very purpose was to achieve an appearance that was unrecognisable; within this room they were faceless. They left their identities, hobbies, and passions at home. Within these four walls, decorated with the finest portraits of the Royal Family dating back to Queen Victoria, they had only one purpose. One life. They were Torchwood.

The man in charge opened the file in front of him, allowing a gentle sigh intended to do nothing more than to capture the attention of his audience. Behind him stood two, large Union Flags.

"We have a situation" he said finally, his voice betraying his age.

"Egypt?" Questioned one of the group.

The man in charge nodded.

"Egypt…" He began. "And America. If you open the folders infront of you please you will see that a United States archaeological dig has uncovered something. Before our US agent could act it was already moved to a secure location within America."

One of the group stared down at the pages in front of him. "My God…" he said "Do they know what it IS?"

"No. And neither do we. But what the Americans and our selves do know, is that it is not terrestrial in origin. Already it has been determined that it is made of an element found nowhere on earth. We've lost track of its location. Naturally this presents a problem. We have no idea what this device can do, we cannot allow this device to remain in the hands of the Americans. For all we know, it could be a weapon of some kind."

"What do we actually know about it?" Asked the man who arrived late.

"Very little." The man in charge began, "except that it is definitely goa'uld technology."

An uneasy muttering swept across the room.

"But we've only ever found trinkets, small items, fragments of that race, we haven't even found a working weapon yet!"

"Nevertheless, it is goa'uld, our operative was quite clear on that. I'm sure you're aware that we first encountered the goa'uld in 1911 when the alien that posed as the god 'Sutekh" attempted an attack upon Earth. This is the very same operative who reported those events to us. We shall be watching closely America closely. Now, any news on our primary concern?"

The man who was late stood up.

"Ah yes. It may defeat all logic, but he's been sighted in Hollywood, America. Um, them again."

"Which body is he in this time?"

"The old man it would seem"

"I assume he evaded capture?"

"Unfortunately so…"

**1945**

"It's travelling device." The man in charge said simply.

"A what?"

"The translation of the cover stones called it a 'Doorway to Heaven', it allows one to travel across the universe. It however, does not seem to allow one to travel back. A man named Earnest Littlefield went through it… he's now missing in action. The American government has returned the 'doorway to heaven' to storage. This time we know where it is."


	2. Chapter 1 Pt 1

Chapter One – Retaliation 

Part 1

**1996**

A pencil dropped from the mouth of Rory Cloverfield. He stared in disbelief as the shimmering blue light illuminated the massive room in the converted nuclear missile silo. He could feel his glasses beginning to slip away from his nose once more. They tended to do that. Without thinking he gently pushed them back up with a single finger, his gaze fixed upon the magnificent sight in front of him. The expeditionary team were but black silhouettes against the splendour of the artefact. He'd known what it was all along of course. But that didn't make it any less amazing. One by one, the expeditionary team disappeared into the light. Rory couldn't see much of them, but he could certainly see their fear. One of them even appeared to cross themselves before they stepped through. Not that last one though… not the new one…

The Egyptologist, Cloverfield had rather liked the man. Well, they both had similar hair so there was something in common right there. Rory couldn't explain it… but whilst every soldier and officer seemed to regard the shimmering puddle as some sort of threat or an omen to be afraid of, this man could see nothing but its beauty. He even stood, for what seemed like an hour just… touching the event horizon, and allowing his fingers to gently dip into the silvery substance… until finally, he stepped through, without any sign of fear.

The gate shut down.

Cheers erupted among the technicians in the control room. They'd been trying so long and now finally the "Stargate" had worked. All thanks to one man. Rory of course, knew that his job wasn't finished. He made a passing comment to his colleague about the need for a cup of coffee and left his workstation. Climbing the circular metal stairs he headed towards the phone. It was in use.

"I'm very sorry you feel that way doctor…

…sorry, Captain. But you were at Area 51 when the development occurred and Washington felt that the test couldn't wait…

Oh come now, that's not a fair statement. It was in no way because you're female. Look you can talk to the Chiefs of Staff about this if you feel it necessary but I think you're overreacting…

…Ok, if you're sure about that doct- Sorry, Captain. Ok. Bye"

The USAF officer who had been using the phone placed it back on it's hook. He smiled at Rory.

"All yours." He said, as he smiled and walked away.

"Thank you Major Samuels" responded Rory as Samuels was already half way out of the door. "Jerk…" he muttered under his breath. Rory picked up the phone and dialled. He shuffled his feet nervously, there was every chance that this call might be monitored, but he had to make it…

Five minutes later, in London a man put the phone back on the hook of his desk. He looked up at the room in front of him. A room with a long oak table and ten shaded men in suits sitting at it. All had their eyes on him. The man who had just put the phone down coughed slightly.

"It would appear" he began, his voice gruff and hardened. "That the Americans have gotten the device working again."

"The Stargate?" Questioned one of the men, his voice oily and low.

"The very same."

"You are of course, all aware what this means for the… Empire…" The man let the word settle in his mouth momentarily. It tasted… bitter. Empire? What bloody Empire? The end of World War Two had devastated Britain. All it had now was Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, hell they hadn't even been able to keep the whole damn country after that ruddy Easter Rising… the Falklands and depending on how you looked at it, Hong Kong, Fiji, New Zealand, Tuvala, Australia and Canada… Hardly an empire… Those dratted Americans had manipulated the world. Oh yes, they'd demanded that colonies are returned to autonomy, but where id it leave them? Oh it left them rich. It left those American imbeciles the only nation that hadn't suffered from the war. And now… Now it looked as if they might actually start extending their reach to the rest of the galaxy.

"We need that device!"

--------

"See you around… Doctor Jackson" 

One Month Later…

"My lord…" the Jaffa bowed before his leader. He felt sorrow as for some time now he had been deprived of bowing before his god. The Tau'ri, those… infidels, had somehow destroyed him. How could this be? Ra was a GOD! The God of Gods! All others feared him, and now… he was gone. Ra had been the supreme System Lord, not even Apophis, the great serpent had dared to oppose him. There had been order The iron fist of Ra had ruled over the galaxy and all who opposed him fell. But not any more. The galaxy was in chaos. Each System Lord was trying to claim the place of Supreme System Lord as their own. Jaffa who had supped together were now locked in combat. This was not right. It was not right to kill another of your kin, not when your gods were mortal… not when they could die… not when they weren't Gods. Kiran knew that the leader he bowed before knew this. Jo'mat had been Ra's first prime. It was only Ra's arrogance in surrounding himself with lower Goa'ulds for protection on Abydos that had spared Jo'mat's life…

"What news do you bring my Kiran?" said Jo'mat from the previous throne of Ra. They were on board a Jaffa Sunglider. Since the fall of Ra all Ha'tak class vessels had been seized by various attacks. Ra's fleet had been devoured and consumed by Lord Yu, Apophis, and Ba'al. All that was left of a once mighty Army was twenty nine Jaffa Warriors and a single ship. This ship was powerful though. The sunglider was an experiment of Ra's scientists. It was a battle ship. Not a glider at all. But it was small. The sunglider was capable of attacking a planet's surface quite readily and on it's own. It was said that a sunglider could single headedly bring a planet to its knees. At least… that's what was supposed to happen. The Sunglider had never been tested…

Kiran spoke up.

"My lord, we have found the Tau'ri home world. We are plotting a course as we speak".

"Good" replied Jo'mat. The Jaffa stood. The bridge of the sunglider had few crewmen, but he spoke out anyway. "My fellow Jaffa!" he bellowed. "Once we were the soldiers of a God. Soldiers of the supreme God. Now we are nothing. Our God is nothing. We have been shown that the goa'uld are not as they say, all powerful. They are weak. If the supreme God can be defeated by mere Tau'ri, then what of the others? We are Jaffa! We are better than Tau'ri. We are stronger. We will strike out. We will take up our right as our own masters. We will destroy the system lords one by one and liberate our kin. But first we must show strength. First we must entice our fellow Jaffa to abandon their false gods and come to our aid. To do this we must defeat those who destroyed the Supreme System Lord. My fellow Jaffa. We go now, to make war on the Tau'ri!

--------

John Andrews was sprayed with disinfectant. The showers ceased. Momentarily he remained trapped between two airtight doors in a small white room. The doors in front slid open automatically and he stepped through. They shut again behind him. John was greeted by a scientist wearing a similar biohazard clean-suit as himself. The scientist extended a hand, which he took.

"Mr Andrews" the scientist said. "Please to have you down with us once more."

John pursed his lips. "Indeed" he mentioned. "What of the specimen?"

"Ah, yes. Straight to business. Well Sir… it's talking."

The scientist led John through a highly advanced laboratory. The entire place was sterile. Walls perfectly white. It was filled with researchers carrying out tests on tissue samples, analysing blood and doing God knows what with DNA resequencers… John was lead past them all to the very back of the lab where there was one final door. On it was written 'Torchwood Restricted Access- Level 10 Security Clearance Required". The scientist placed a key card into a scanning device just to the left of the door. There was a small electronic beep as the door unlocked. Mr Andrews pushed it open and stepped through.

The room was full of machines, and at the centre there was an operating table with a small grey humanoid hooked up to what looked like a life support device. The creature's breathing was shallow. It was tiny. The size of a child. Its limbs were small, frail and bony. The creature had no genitalia to speak of and its eyes… it's eyes were large and black… empty…

"Sir" said the scientist "It's identified itself as 'Asgard'"

"Is that all?" Said John looking down at the tiny alien before him.

"Well yes but…"

"Then you can leave me"

The scientist looked as if he was about to protest… but thought better of it. He wanted to remember who he was when he woke up tomorrow. He left, leaving John Andrews alone with the alien.

John walked casually up to the creature and peered down at it. He could see the alien look at him and try to move its fingers.

"You're under a strong sedative" John said. "Now… Asgard… who are you. What do you want with this planet?"

The Asgard shook its head slowly, its tiny mouth opening and closing.

"Come now. Your ship crashed down in one of our forests three months ago. We're most grateful to you. It's given us such a wonderful chance to study an alien space craft. You're also lucky you crashed when you did. Otherwise we would have scrambled our own fighters and you would have been destroyed. This way, you get to live…. For now at least. I ask you once more. What do you want with this planet?"

The Asgard's mouth began to move. John moved closer. He could hear… very quietly the word 'research'.

"So." He said. "You're here to experiment on us. Like animals. Very well. Then let me tell you this. You shall be the one to be experimented on. We will dissect you. Examine your vital organs. Your nervous system. Then we shall kill you. After that, we will tear your ship apart and anything we deem useful we shall salvage."

John smiled.

"Have a nice day".

And with that, Andrews smiled at the small, pathetic creature and walked out of the room. Leaving the Asgard pinned to the table. Even in those large black eyes… fear could be seen.

Having gone through the frankly annoying process of being decontaminated upon leaving the laboratory. John Andrews was back in his suit. It was grey. Most certainly not black. Black draws attention. Why would anyone wear a black suit if they wanted to be discreet? Black either looks intimidating or sophisticated. "Men In Black"… the idea made John want to laugh. No. Grey was the appropriate colour. It was drab. Dull. Unimposing and unimpressive. You spoke to an individual whilst wearing a grey suit, and you were just another bureaucrat, minister, civil servant. Totally unrecognisable. John tidied his short brown hair. Being neatly manicured was also very important. He was young, by Torchwood standards, at least by Torchwood Cabinet standards. Torchwood acquired all the best minds of course. Their laboratories had five year old graduates working in them. But they were just workers. No, Torchwood, the _real_ Torchwood, was something else.

The basic structure of Torchwood was simple. There were four main offices. Torchwood One, Two, Three and Four. Not highly original, but why did it need to be? Torchwood One was situated in London. It's head office being Torchwood Tower, known as Canary Wharf to the public. Torchwood Two was in Glasgow, Three in Cardiff, and Four had been somewhere in Eire… though that had lead to… complications following the Easter Rising… It was laughable. As far as the majority of Torchwood employees knew. That was it. Nothing more. Oh a few outposts in say the Falklands Islands and Hong Kong. But that was it. Only the senior researchers and the heads of each division knew of the Torchwood Cabinet.

The cabinet's job was to run the entire operation. All Torchwood units reported to them. The cabinet was nothing more than a room. One room and a handful of men. The majority of which being over the age of fifty. It was these men that controlled Torchwood. They had positions in Parliament, the Home Office, some were diplomats, others scientists. They were so well placed that their influence could spread across the world. These were the men who would defend British shores from the alien threat. These were the men who would re-establish the British Empire. John was thirty six. He was young. He was promising. His attestation to the Torchwood cabinet had been controversial.

John walked into the Research & Development section of Torchwood 1. It was a large room off the main underground store room. Inside dozens of Torchwood engineers and physicists were busy pouring over the remains of the newly identified Asgard space ship. The sight was amazing. It was huge. Taking up almost the entire room. And it was a _very_ large room. Wires, cables, sheets of metal and tools were everywhere. The buzz of electric tools filled the air as technicians used drills and blow torches to strip the ship down. This was part of the very essence of Torchwood. 'If it's alien, it's ours'. And by God, they were going to use it to make The Nation great once more.

Andrews stood still. Surveying the sight before him. It wasn't long before the project leader spotted him and came running over. He was just another scientist as far as John was concerned. Usual dress sense, white coat, unshaven etc… John really didn't need to take in any more than the fact that this man would do exactly as he said.

"Report… Doctor Conner". Said John.

"Ah, um yes sir. Drat it, where's my file. Toshiko! Fetch my clip board"

A young female scientist of Japanese ancestry hurried over to the chief scientist and passed him a clipboard.

"Thank you Toshiko" he said, and she returned to her work with a computer. "Right then Sir. Progress is going extremely well, we're beginning to isolate the power source behind the propulsion systems and there's every possibility that it could be used to replace fossil fuels…" The Chief Researcher was silenced by John holding up a single hand. The scientist froze mid sentence with his mouth open.

"The weapons systems Doctor Conner. What of the weapons?"

"Ah yes. Most promising Sir. They're very badly damaged, but from what we can gather, extremely powerful. Energy based weapons like we've never seen before."

"Of significant tactical importance then?"

"Certain Sir, I'm no soldier, but the destructive capability of energy weapons such as these in the field of combat, no contemporary weapon would stand a chance. This would in theory be able to sink battleships, destroy aircraft mid-flight…"

"Could it destroy a nuclear missile?"

"Definitely"

"Excellent. Then your priority Doctor Conner, is the weapons system. I want it converted so that it can be used operationally. Do I make myself clear?"

The scientist opened his mouth to try and protest. There was so much more that could be learned…

"Do I make myself clear?" Repeated John. The scientist nodded. And that was that.

--------

General West of the United States Air Force watched as the last of equipment was removed from the embarkation room under Cheyenne Mountain. It had been a month since Colonel O' Neill's team had returned from their mission, the enemy planet destroyed, along with the alien threat. General West had looked on as various scientists had tried to dial other combinations of the symbols on the gate, but not had connected. It was as such that the joint Chiefs had decided that the Stargate Project was to be abandoned. The security risk had been removed and thus there was no more reason to operate it. In front of the General, a large white sheet was being pulled over the gate.

--------

The Torchwood Cabinet was once again in session. John Andrews, as his junior status demanded, sat at the bottom of the long oak table to one side. He watched as the gentleman opposite him lit a cigarette and began to smoke. The smoking man noticed John's stare and offered the packet.

"Thank you, no." said John.

The chairman coughed. All heads turned to face him.

In the darkness of the room, his white hair could just about me made out. It was a well known fact that the chairman was old. Very old. Once you were elected Chairman of the Torchwood Cabinet, you remained chairman until you died or were for whatever reason unable to perform your duties. The current chairman remembered when the Stargate had first been discovered. He had come from a meeting with a German politician…

The Chairman spoke to the Cabinet.

"The Stargate has once again been shut down. The project has been abandoned."

"Where's it being stored?" Asked one of the men.

"It remains in the sub levels of Cheyenne Mountain. I fear that access to the device will be difficult. However we can be content with the fact that, though the Americans successfully sent an expeditionary team through the device, they have lost interest. They believe that the Stargate is capable of travel to only one other planet, and they may be right. But according to the mission leader's report, a nuclear device was detonated on the planet and there will be no return journey." The chairman's report was met with mutterings of agreement. "Mr Andrews, what of the crashed space ship currently housed at Torchwood One?"

John tapped the desk lightly with his fingers. He could feel all eyes in the room upon him. Staring at him through the thick smoke from their cigarettes.

"Well Sir. In the past few weeks since I requested that Torchwood One focus their efforts on the weapons systems of the crashed spacecraft, several developments have been made. We believe that a proto-type energy weapon is almost ready. A few more weeks work and it will be ready to test."

"Good news. And the alien creature?"

"Little or no value Sir. Our scientists are currently cataloguing its body parts before they're put into freezing."

"Thank you Andrews. Courtney if you would be so good as to present the latest information on the Doctor."

The man opposite John took deep drag on his cigarette and spoke.

"The Festival of Ghana, Sir. It's the old man again sir. There appears to have been some sort of a battle with Daleks, our operatives are still trying to determine exactly how they got here and why, but as yet with no luck Sir. As of course we are all aware we have been advised by our people at Torchwood 3 that any attempt to detain the Doctor in any form other than the one which Her Majesty Queen Victoria encountered leading to the foundation of the Torchwood Institute, could in fact cause several temporal paradoxes. These have been confirmed by our leading scientists, leaving us with a problem. Again, as we are all aware, Torchwood had to simply be content with monitoring the Doctor during his time with U.N.I.T. as scientific advisor. We have sufficiently the order of seven of his incarnations thanks to interrogation of former Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, he has of course been given the ret-con pill. We believe that our target incarnation is either the eighth or ninth form but we cannot be certain. We of course have out our disposal the description set down by Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Once we encounter an incarnation matching that description we will act."

--------

Deep below London Tower, Senior Aircraftsman Robert Holding checked the screen in front of him again.

_Oh shit_… he thought to himself. Robert was sitting at a deep space radar console and the screen he was monitoring was not reporting good news. Holding was working in one of the United Nations most secret facilities. He was part of the British Contingent of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. He removed a pen from the top pocket of his short sleeve RAF issue shirt and jotted down the co-ordinates and velocity. He pressed a small red button. The entire radar room was illuminated by a dark flashing red light, the twenty other military persons in the room looked uneasy at their workstations. Lieutenant Blake of the British Army made his way over to the SAC's position.

"What is it?" He said.

"Unidentified Object in space Sir, it's travelling too fast to be a meteor or other space debris… and it's heading right for us"


	3. Chapter 1 Pt 2

Chapter 1 Part 2

"What do you mean Lieutenant?"

"I mean ma'am that earth air space is going to be violated within three days by an alien spacecraft assuming that it doesn't change velocity" said Lieutenant Blake leaning forward onto the smooth grey desk in the Brigadier's office.

"Again? Can't we go a week without an alien invasion of some kind?"

"Ma'am?"

"Sorry, Lieutenant, just gets rather tedious when you've been doing this as long as I have." Brigadier Winifred Bambera, Officer Commanding the British contingent of UNIT stood up from her desk and patted Blake on his shoulder. "Just ignore my ramblings. Report back to your station, I want all British UNIT personnel on standby for immediate mobilisation, we can't do anything until we know where this thing is going to end up. I'll contact Geneva and advise the same. Make sure that the Royal Air Force has got every one of their fighters ready for rapid reaction and that all of their fast jet pilots are ready, understand?"

"Yes Ma'am"

"Carry on Lieutenant." Brigadier Bambera gestured him to leave. She sighed and sat down as he made his way out of her office. It was fairly Spartan, devoid of personal effects. Bambera was a military woman and that was that. She could quite easily out run or out arm-wrestle any of her staff and they knew it. She picked up the telephone receiver from her desk and speed dialled 2 – Geneva – United Nations Intelligence Taskforce Headquarters. The phone began to ring. With a click, somebody picked up from the other end, a raspy French accent answered. "Get me the UNIT Officer Commanding please, this is Brigadier Bambera. We have a situation. Yes another one".

--------

John Andrews once again sat at the very end of the long oak table that was the meeting point of the Torchwood Cabinet. It was an annoyance being relegated to such a position. But it wouldn't be for long. Certainly not for long. Because, as he thought in his head, he had plans. Andrews was nothing if not an ambitious man. He viewed those above him with contempt. They were relics. Ancient fossils stuck in the cold war, or worse, the second world war. They had no real understanding of the world, of politics, of power… all they wanted to do was restore the Empire to its former glory, and sit around drinking whisky and go hunting. They were pathetic. Didn't they understand what all this alien technology meant? No, of course they didn't. They never could.

The Chairmen coughed, and began to speak.

"Gentlemen. We are faced with another vessel on course to earth; our devices have determined that it is a goa'uld craft. Unfortunately UNIT is already very aware of its existence. Andrews. As you have been in charge of the research into the weapons systems from the Asgard weapon, you are tasked with ensuring we have a viable defence should this ship violate our airspace, of course if it enters American or Russian airspace we'll leak information to which ever side is relevant and tell them the craft belongs to the other lot. With any luck they'll destroy themselves and we can deal with the vessel then. You will need to make sure UNIT don't overstep their mark. We don't want to draw attention to this. And you know they have a habit of scrambling aircraft and deploying submarines and such like."

Andrews smiled slightly and nodded once. He stood up from the table, leaving his colleagues with their whisky and cigars. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me please" He turned his back on the group and walked out of the door. John walked through the corridors of the Torchwood Cabinet Office; they were, predictably from a time long gone, a time of British heritage. Along the walls there were oil paintings of soldiers off hunting deer and of sport in Africa. Every so often he'd pass a Union Flag hanging from the wall. The Torchwood Cabinet was located somewhere along the underground system. A station that had been build and then used as a secret government office during the Second World War. Now it was the home of what could only be called the true British Government. Because what John understood, and his colleagues didn't seem to, was that it was they, not the Prime Minister, not the Queen, but Torchwood, who set the rules. It was Torchwood who were in charge. John reached a small lift and stepped inside, he put his hand into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a small key, placing it into a small hole inside the lift. There were no controls. Just this keyhole. He turned the key, and the lift began to ascend.

--------

Brigadier Bambera walked into her kitchen and froze.

"Whoever you are," she said coldly. "You're in very big trouble"

Leaning casually against the kitchen work surface with a glass of the Brigadier's favourite whisky was a young man in a grey suit, and a grey tie. He seemed nonplussed.

"I mean it. If you think I'm some barmy old lady you have another thing coming, I'm…"

"Brigadier Winifred Bambera, Order of the British Empire, graduated from the University of Wales Aberystwyth with a degree in International Politics, highly decorated, served extensively with the British Army in the Royal Signals where you were selected for service in the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, a publicly known organisation with a publicly unknown mandate, which is investigation into and defence against alien aggression. Yes. I know."

"Who the hell are you?"

John Andrews smiled.

"I don't believe that's important. Really… do you?"

"Yes I fucking well do"

John smiled again.

"Brigadier, I assure you. I mean you no harm…" he was interrupted.

"If you don't explain yourself within one minute, I will mean YOU harm."

"Very well, I'm quite happy to forego the pleasantries. I'm from MI16."

"There's no such thing."

"I'll think you'll find there is Brigadier. During World War Two MI16 was officially in existence and known as Scientific Intelligence, it was officially disbanded after 1945 however it has existed unofficially since then, and as a matter of fact, way before then. Still don't believe me? Fine. Security Code T178427 Omega. I believe you're familiar with that? If I'm right, you now have no choice but to listen to me. It's in UNIT's standing orders for all UNIT personnel to relinquish authority to anyone in possession of that code."

"Fine. I'll listen, but that doesn't mean I'll offer you a seat. What do you want?"

"Brigadier, there is an alien spacecraft currently heading to earth, and you, of course, are preparing for fast jets to be scrambled to intercept and are about to put the entire British Military on red alert, and if I'm not mistaken, the same for the rest of the UNIT forces all over the world if Geneva act on your information. We'd really rather that didn't happen."

John smiled and picked up the whisky bottle.

"Drink?"

--------

Major General George Hammond of the United States Air Force sat behind his desk in Cheyenne Mountain, twenty-eight floors down. The Stargate Program was no more, and he only had a few months before retirement. He sat in silence. He thought he might write a book about his years of service.

--------

It was past eleven at night when Andres finally got home. He opened the front door to his apartment and walked into the living room, he was undoing his tie when he stopped.

"You know," he said. "Usually I'm the one waiting in people's homes for them to come in."

In front of him a tall woman in a black suit, with a long skirt shrugged. She had long blonde hair and was extremely attractive. The woman was young, mid to late twenties with brown eyes.

"I really don't remember giving you a key"

The woman folded her arms. "Torchwood has unrestricted access. I thought you'd know that." She said.

John dropped his tie on the floor and marched towards her and stopped an inch from her face. He pursed his lips and his eyes burned. For a moment the woman's heart began to beat slightly too fast before she calmed herself. John glared at her and grabbed her arm forcibly, his right fist gripping her harm. She let out a slight whimper of pain… and John kissed her. Hard. She kissed back. He wrapped his other arm around her back and drew her in closer so that he could feel her body against his. They broke away for a short second, the woman took a breath. And they kissed again. Madly. Passionately. The woman started to undo her suit jacket but felt her fingers pulled away as John tore it apart and pulled it off her shoulders. He began unbuttoning her shirt, exposing her soft skin to the cool air of the room. He ripped her shirt from her and pushed her against the living room wall hard, pressing himself onto her. She gasped as he began to kiss her neck and ran his hand up her inside thigh…

"God I missed you" Yvonne breathed into his ear.

--------

"Yes Sir. Yes I understand that. I really don't know what to say. The UFO we reported three days ago turned out to be space debris, nothing more. I know Sir; we should have clarified this before contacting you. No it won't happen again."

The Brigadier put the phone down and she began to tap her fingers on her desk uncomfortably. They were expecting the UFO in Earth's orbit within the hour. Her men had been thorough…. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in"

Lieutenant Blake opened the door and entered. He promptly stood to attention.

"What is it Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am… permission to speak freely?"

"Of course"

"I'm sure you're planning something, I mean. You must be. But could you tell me? There's a potentially hostile UFO about to enter Earth's orbit, you've had me cancel the order to put pilots and aircraft on standby and we're not taking preventative measures… it's not the Doctor is it ma'am?"

"What? Oh… no…. no…. haven't seen him since 1993… I'm afraid I can't tell you Lieutenant. The orders come from higher up. Higher than Whitehall or Geneva it seems."

Blake began to open his mouth.

"That will be all Lieutenant."

Blake was about to leave when the doorframe was illuminated with a red flashing light.

"Sir! Ma'am!" Yelled the voice of a young corporal from across the command room. "We've got visual on the UFO! It's entered Earth's atmosphere above Britain. Ma'am! It's right above us!"

"Shit…" muttered the Brigadier. "Get me a visual on the large screen!"

--------

Above the skies of the United Kingdom a small black spot in the sky could be seen. No one really paid much attention to it. They were all too busy working or shopping… too busy living their lives. But the small black dot began to get bigger. To get closer. On board the Jaffa Sun Glider. Ra's former Jaffa were readying to strike Britain. To begin laying the planet of the Tau'ri to waste.

The Jaffa Warrior Jo'mat sat at the command chair of the craft. On the screen in front of him he saw the people of Glasgow going about their lives. He saw how pathetic and tiny they were. He saw how he would destroy them. The sun glider was descending upon Scotland, readying for attack.

An attack that would never come. Jo'mat prepared to give the command, when from out of the ground burst three brilliant green beams. They shot into the air and conjoined in one point to form one massive bream of energy, which tore through the crisp afternoon sky towards the Jaffa ship.

The energy beam tore right through the bridge of the glider, destroying all of controls and the entire crew of the ship who had been assembled to watch as their leader began to wreak chaos upon the people of the tiny planet that had just struck so hard at their ship.

The Jaffa crew dead… the engine systems destroyed, the ship began to plummet towards the ocean…

The BBC would later report that freak lightning had been the cause of the strange lights in the sky coupled with falling space debris.

--------

The British UNIT staff watched on underneath London Tower…

"What was that?" Gasped Lt Blake.

Underneath her breath Brigadier Bambera muttered "Torchwood".

--------

One Day Later…

"It appears we have a problem Sir… it appears that an alien spacecraft entered earth's atmosphere yesterday at around 1500hrs… and was then destroyed by an energy beam originating in Glasgow…"

"Well… this IS interesting… we shall have to give it the NIDs full attention…"


	4. Chapter 1 Pt 3

Nick Bower crept forwards deeper into the bushes

Nick Bower crept forwards deeper into the bushes. He wore an old, dirty pair of blue jeans and a grey faded t-shirt. Bits of old dead leaves were getting tangled in his blond hair, short though it was, and he was sure he'd trodden in something remarkably unpleasant. But right now, there were more important things to think about. Slowly and carefully Nick raised a hand to one of the branches in front of him and pulled it gently aside. He couldn't see much. But it was enough to confirm his interest. Through the leaves and branches Nick could see soldiers. Lots of soldiers. They were British, no doubt about that, he recognised the uniform style from when he served in the Royal Auxiliary Air Force… but he couldn't place the berets. Granted he couldn't see the cap badges though… they were too far away. There didn't seem to be any distinctive regimental flashes on the uniform either though… He could rule out UNIT though, they always wore the same colour beret… well generally they did anyway. They used to have a sand coloured SAS style beret, then moved towards the standard United Nations sky blue beret… for some daft reason they'd started wearing red berets now… he couldn't quite work that out, but these guys were wearing black berets. Anyway… if it wasn't UNIT, this was a bit odd… usually UNIT were involved in this kind of thing… well… anything similar at least. They always said it was some kind of crashed missile, or bomb threat or whatever. But come on! Why would a United Nations military intelligence unit be dealing with crashed missiles and bomb disposal operations?

Still… Nick wasn't sure whether the fact that the soldiers he could see weren't UNIT was a good thing or a bad thing. He'd come to associate any possible extra terrestrial investigation on behalf of the military with UNIT… if these weren't them… and he really didn't think they were… then maybe this was just something normal? Except… Yes! He pulled the branch further aside. He could see what the soldiers were doing. "My God…" there were loads of them… there was a large crater in the ground with something in it… some kind of a crashed aeroplane… but not one Nick had ever seen before. He began to get excited. This was it. Downed UFO! Proof that the government was in on the existence of extra terrestrial life! He pulled a small camera out of his little black rucksack and began taking pictures. All around the crater were soldiers moving things back and forth, right next to it was a very big transportation truck without a load… and next to that… a crane.

Nick was about to move closer when he felt a dull pain at the back of his skull and everything went black…

When he woke up, he found himself lying in his bed. In Manchester… he tried desperately to remember what had happened… he knew he was about to head up to Scotland for some reason but… why? And why couldn't he remember the night before… Nick carried his camera everywhere with him, so he reached for it on his bedside table to see if that had any clues. It wasn't there.

--

John Andrews walked through the research department of Torchwood One. The R&D staff cast him a nervous glance as he walked past them. Torchwood was a scary place to work. A lot of the scientists were graduates, they'd been head hunted by Torchwood because they were brilliant, best in their fields in astrophysics, engineering, medical biology, computer science, they'd joined Torchwood knowing only that they were joining a British Intelligence agency. Finding out what they were really doing always, without fail, took their breath away. That lasted all of a week. Then the fear began to set in. Torchwood wasn't like MI5 or MI6. It wasn't like GCHQ with a friendly happy environment. You didn't feel like you were important… because you knew that you could be replaced. Each and everyone scientist, administrator, or medic was expendable. They all thought it was cool to be working with the men in black… those shadowy men who turned up at the dead of night to ask you about what you saw in the sky. To warn you from going to the press. But it wasn't. You worked FOR them. Not with them. You weren't privy to their secrets. You weren't privy to their thoughts. The fact is… the men in black were scarier when you knew who they were… because you knew exactly what they could do to you… and to your families…

John of course… was wearing his grey suit. It was a trademark in a way. He was the only member of the Torchwood Cabinet to wear grey. Somehow that made him seem just that little bit more sinister… He approached Doctor Connor who was examining the weapons data from the Asgard ship.

"Doctor Connor." Said John, causing the scientist to look round in a panic. "Congratulations, your work on the Asgard weapons systems was a success. We successfully shot down a vessel that violated our airspace yesterday. You will of course, be receiving that one as well. I trust you'll deliver the same high quality results as before. The vessel will be shipped down via an unmarked cargo ship and brought up the Thames river within the next few days and then unloaded into your research bay."

As soon as Andrews had finished he turned around and left. The R&D section of Torchwood really didn't interest him that much. He left the science to the scientists. The trouble with Torchwood One… was it was such a big operation. Torchwood Three was simple. Backwater outpost in Cardiff, cleans up after the rift and retcon any stupid Welshman who gets to close to a Weevil. Torchwood One on the other hand needed constant watching. Yvonne Hartman was a team leader in one of the intelligence analysis divisions; she was starting to turn it into some kind of corporate entity, political correctness and so on so forth. Stupid Bitch… still… she was going to be useful.

John walked to the lift and pressed the button. Out of sheer boredom he read the list of floors on the sign next to the lift. Of course the top floor was dedicated to the anomaly… that was the entire reason why Torchwood Tower was built… but the rest of the building housed all kinds of departments and offices. So much more than R&D…. Torchwood outclassed any intelligence agency in the world. It had imagery analysts, surveillance officers, psychologists, and administrators… Torchwood also had it's own Special Operations Force drawn from the SAS and SBS, known simply as Taskforce Nine. But the most important element of Torchwood were the Intelligence Officers. That's what John had been recruited as. They were the ones who knew what was going on and they were the ones that kept a lid on things. Every now and then a journalist would get too close to the truth and would have to be silenced. Torchwood Intelligence Officers were responsible for that. But every now and then John liked to go back to his roots and do the job. For old times sake. If anything so that he didn't end up like the rest of the Torchwood Cabinet. Nick Bower had been an investigator he had looked forward to silencing… it was funny really… Nick had been retconned at least a dozen times, the majority of them had been John's work. He'd almost begun to see Nick as his little pet journalist. He felt he had a responsibility to deal with him every time he stepped out of line. It was a shame… if Nick had been slightly different, John would have probably recruited him. Not many people would still pursue their cause after a dozen retconnings.

John was snapped out his thought processes when the lift arrived.

--

Captain Peterson of Taskforce Nine stopped in his tracks. He'd been supervising Torchwood's transportation of the crashed UFO. They hadn't gotten it onto the lorry yet, but they were about to get started. Unfortunately the removal of a UFO from being half buried in the ground took time… but what bothered Peterson right now was something else. Leading away from the crater… were footprints, they were not made by military issue boots.

"Shit" he muttered.

Peterson touched the small radio piece in his ear and began to speak quietly.

"All units, all units, this is Alpha One, we have a situation, code foxtrot, suspected echo bravo echo in surrounding area. All units on full alert, sections one and two spread out from central point and commence foxtrot protocols. Out"

The Captain raised his C8 Carbine rifle cautiously and scanned his surroundings. Looking down, he saw that the tracks were leading off into the woodland area. 'bugger' he thought. Peterson began to follow them, his rifle readied. He trod slowly, years of training governing every action. Not a sound could be heard from him as he moved, keeping to the shadows in the forest… the footprints looked like they were made by boots. Flat and heavy boots. It was dark, that was a problem… what was more of a problem was the light coming from a small house in front of him, just beyond the woods. Peterson made his way towards it… one of the windows was slightly open… he could hear a woman whimpering. Moving towards the window, he could see what was going on inside. A tall man… African looking, possibly Egyptian, dressed in some kind of metal armour was standing in front of the door. He held in his hand some kind of staff, but was pointing it like a weapon. The woman inside was middle aged. Blond. She was kneeling on the floor crying, in her arms she was cradling the body of a dead man. His shirt stained with blood that was dripping down onto the floor. It was probably her husband. Captain Peterson raised his rifle, he line the target up and the killer's head… and fired.

Seconds later, after the shattering of glass, a scream and the collapse of the target's body, Peterson touched his radio again.

"Command, this is Alpha One. We're going to need retcon and a cover story…"

--

"What's going on?" Andrews paced into Torchwood One's intelligence department, an ultra modern open plan office space filled with Britain's finest. The majority of Torchwood's intelligence officers were drawn directly from the other intelligence agencies, though of course there were some exceptions. Officers in black suits tapped away at their computers, monitoring the world, but right now attention was focused on a small village in the Shetland Islands. One of the intel officers stood up from his desk and walked over to Andrews, handing him a document wallet.

"Sir" he said, the Taskforce Nine unit commander supervising the Shetland Islands crash retrieval has encountered a problem. An E.B.E escaped the crash and infiltrated a local village. Only one fatality, but police are already all over the scene. Peterson was able to neutralise the E.B.E but wasn't able to execute a clean up operation in time."

"You mean to tell me that some bloody small town Scottish policemen have gotten hold of an alien cadaver?"

"Yes Sir, but it's not as bad as all that, it appears that the E.B.E is distinctly human in appearance, indistinguishable in fact, so until they do a thorough examination they shouldn't be any wiser. The fatality was ex-army, Scottish Guards, his wife witnessed the event."

"Right. Get Torchwood Two in on the situation, have their intelligence officers retcon the wife and the police officers, arrange for the victim's body to be found off shore and create a coroner's report stating that he died from drowning, include minor wounds to the body to create the impression that he slipped on rocks and lost consciousness."

"Understood Sir"

"Anything else as fallout from the crash?" said John to the room.

--

Lieutenant Colonel Frank Simmons sat within the deepest offices of the Pentagon, he stared intently on the report that had just been placed on his desk by some airman, he didn't know who, and frankly he didn't care. He knew the man worked for him and that was as far as his interests went. The report was troubling. For two very good reasons. The first was simple a UFO had crashed on British soil, not however through pilot error or technical malfunction it seemed, because the British had by some inexplicable means, obtained the technology to successfully shoot down an alien craft. Britain was a member of UNIT, the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, an organisation devoted to investigating and combating the alien threat, but UNIT most certainly did not have that level of technology, and any advancement in the field on the half of the British would have to be reported to Geneva… The same was true of the US… but then Simmons knew that would never happen, whatever alien advancements the Pentagon could achieve would stay firmly in US hands… the B2 was a prime example of this. This meant that the British were beginning to get as devious as the Americans…. Simmons definitely did not like that…

The second reason for the crash being troubling were the reports of the escaped EBE that had been killed shortly afterwards. One of Simmons men had managed to get information out of some local police officers in the town where the crash had occurred… the alien was humanoid… with distinctive Egyptian markings… Ra? Colonel O'Neill's report had stated that Ra had been destroyed by a nuclear device along with the whole God damn planet that the Stargate mission had taken the team to… Not for the first time, Simmons suspected that O'Neill may have lied about certain facts surrounding the mission.

Simmons clasped his hands and sucked on his tongue gently. Thinking. Something else was bothering him…. Who had recovered the downed UFO? If not UNIT then who for god's sake!? Something was going on in the British intelligence community that Simmons didn't know about. This would have to be rectified. He picked up the handset of the phone on his desk and pressed button two on his speed dial.

"Tyler" he said softly, "would you be so good as to contact the UK Deputy Prime Minister Heseltine for me again please, remind him about those phone conversations of his that I have on tape, he'll know who it is… tell him I need a meeting with him."


	5. Chapter 2 Pt 1

Chapter 2

**July 1997 **

"Sweet Jesus, are we handling this?"

"In as much as we can possibly, there's a car currently en route to collect Colonel Jack O'Neill from the Stargate mission, he's to report to General Hammond's office, that's the best we've got. He and the remnants of his team, Majors Charles Kawalski and Louis Feretti are the only actual people who have had contact with the alien hostiles of this nature."

"Surely some of our Area 51 researchers have some expertise?"

"Well from what they've induced from Colonel O'Neill's mission report the entities from the Roswell crash have nothing in common with the extra terrestrial threat that lay on the other side of the gate. They've got nothing."

"And now this Ra character or whoever he is has come through the Stargate with an armed escort and abducted for want of a better word, one of our Air Force's NCOs?"

"Ra is dead Sir."

"Apparently"

"According to Colonel O'Neill – yes"

"How many aliens do you suppose there are that pose as Egyptian Gods?"

"Well…"

"Exactly. I want to know the moment Hammond has debriefed O'Neill, and I want to know exactly what your people plan to do about this, Major Davis, do not let me down."

"Yes Sir".

_Click_

"So you see from this piece of surveillance Gentlemen." said John Andrews, "and as the Americans have just become rather aware of, the Goa'uld threat is still significant. The Jaffa sunglider recently shot down by the converted Asgard weapon may only have been the beginning of a military onslaught against this planet. If they've now realised that the Stargate is a viable passage to earth we can expect a good deal more from them. You've all read the mission reports our overseas operative managed to obtain for us, though one Colonel Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill declares the alien entity known as 'Ra' dead, and we ourselves know that our dear 'friend' The Doctor dealt with the Goa'uld Sutekh on earth, it is clear that the this race of beings are a far greater threat than we at first anticipated. They may have been driven from Earth, but most certainly not from the universe. We currently possess, despite numerous decades of operation, a viable means of protecting the Empire from a mass alien attack. We can possibly defend Britain for a brief amount of time, but should we be targeted from orbit, beyond the reach of the Asgard defence system, we will be helpless. We must step up Torchwood operations, both home soil and out of area. Unless we are actually happy to sit back and let the ignorant American administration remain in control of the Stargate, we must act now."

Andrews stopped talking and looked around the room of the Torchwood Cabinet. Filled with musty old men in black suits, each and everyone with a cigar in hand and a brandy in front of them. One of them spoke.

"And we're sure of all this?"

Andrews sighed and closed his eyes briefly.

"Yes Sir" he said, with considerably emphasis on the 'yes'. "Intelligence has provided us with a considerable amount of information on the NID and DoD files and intentions."

"It wouldn't do just to let the Americans retain control of the device"

"No Sir"

"How do you propose we gain control over it?"

"I have a few ideas Sir" smiled John.

--

Deep within Cheyenne Mountain, the Stargate burst into life and illuminated the room. From out of the wormhole's event horizon, an empty tissue box tumbled out with three words painted on the side…

'Thanks. Send more.'

--

The NID – The United States of America's most secretive organisation. So secretive that the meaning behind the initials was only known at the top level of government. National Intelligence Department. Tasked with protecting the United States and its interests from extra terrestrial threats. They were the original Men In Black… or would have been if Torchwood hadn't been formed a good deal earlier. Unlike Torchwood however, the NID was not discrete. It was the NID that were responsible for start of the MIB rumours. The NID however were nowhere near as advanced as Torchwood. Whether by lack of skill, poor judgement, or just bad luck, the NID had failed to gather the level of alien technology that Torchwood had. What they did have however, was studied intently in Area 51. Theoretically neither Torchwood nor the NID were supposed to know about the other's existence, although Frank Simmons was beginning to suspect the NID might have a British counterpart. The shooting down of an alien spacecraft just under a year ago by some kind of energy weapon had gained the attention of Intelligence officials at the highest level of the US Government.

Simmons was once again studying an intelligence report provided to him, this time by Air Force officers under Cheyenne Mountain, the location of the alien device, the Stargate. The ship shot down the year before had carried what he and his peers believed to be from the planet visited by the Stargate Mission team. And now one of the same species of Alien had come through the Stargate to earth. General Hammond had confirmed it. The alien's eyes glowed. As it turned out, O'Neill was the lying son of a bitch that Simmons thought he was. The nuclear device he'd been ordered to detonate in order to blow up the planet had only destroyed a hostile alien ship, the planet was intact, Daniel Jackson was alive, and now the two of them alongside a Major Kawalski were using the gate to pursue this new alien to another planet as he sat here…

The Stargate was dangerous. It appeared to open a doorway to a universe that the United States government knew next to nothing about. But the British… they'd shot down one of these alien ships. Recovered an alien body… Simmons had managed to ensure the co-operation of the British Deputy Prime Minister, through certain illegal means… there was an organisation, deep within British Intelligence… and they knew what America was about to face. It was Simmons' job to make sure he found out what they knew.

Simmons stood up and placed the document into a draw in his desk, closed it and locked it. He had a plane to catch.

--

Glasgow, Scotland. Fourteen Hours Later…

Lieutenant Colonel Frank Simmons had been walking around Glasgow for the past hour or so. His intelligence sources had previously tracked the locations of the energy weapons fired at the alien ship to somewhere nearby. There were three of them, pinpointed by US satellite recordings to exact GPS co-ordinates. There didn't appear to be anything here… but then that didn't mean there wasn't. Simmons placed his hands in the pockets of his black suit. He moved closer to the area that the satellite had indicated. Just a normal building. Nothing strange. A tourist information office… except it was closed. During the middle of a weekday. Simmons walked up to the building and looked in through the door's window. Nothing. He pulled a small lock pick out of his pocket and began to use it on the door. There was a small click, as he was granted access.

Simmons stepped into the dark office. Everything appeared to be in order, the usual tacky maps and info leaflets…He moved to the door behind the desk and tried to open it. It was locked. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a security camera, a small red dot flashing in the right hand corner of it. It was trained directly on him.

"Shit…" he muttered.

From the moment Simmons had arrived at the first of the points designated by the US satellites, Torchwood Two had been tracking him via the various security cameras throughout the city. The moment he'd made for the second of the three weapons installations Torchwood had sent a high priority communication to MI5 – the British Security Services.

'Urgent Message from Box 16 - Suspected Terrorist Bomb Threat in Progress, co-ordinates will follow'

A contingent of Armed Police officers roared to a stop outside of the tourist information office. Six officers wearing bulletproof vests and carrying rifles took up position outside of the building and proceeded to storm it.

Simmons smiled to himself from a few streets away. So. By simply breaking into a tourist information office he had drawn the attention of an armed police unit. He was on the right track. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone and dialled an international number.

--

"Sir, we're getting a message from GCHQ"

"What is it?" Asked Andrews.

"They've intercepted a telephone call made to the United States from Glasgow, a few streets away from the building currently under armed police control, it appears to be using veiled speech, but we can trace the other end and it's being received by a land line in the Pentagon."

"What did the caller say?"

"Have found the arrow, looking for the archer"

"So…" mused Andrews. "The USA is engaging in intelligence operations against Torchwood. Interesting…"


End file.
